Cheater
by silverxstarx
Summary: Harry is working his usual shift at ASDA, when he notices a rather odd customer. One-shot. Complete.


**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

"That'll be seven pounds." Harry Potter sighed. His shift at ASDA had just started, much to his dismay. He continued checking his watch, as an elderly woman counted out her money.

It was a rather busy day, on the eve of Easter. The shop was brightly decorated in pastel colors. Most of the shoppers were purchasing plastic eggs, or candy. It was one of Harry's favorite holidays, but right now, he felt exhausted.

The day was going by extremely slow, and the lady counting her money was not helping. Harry looked at the line that was now building up. Then he glanced back at the many empty cash registers, wondering how much ASDA had to pay for those. Yet, only the first four were open, and Harry was _blessed_ to operate one.

The woman fished out the rest of her money, and handed it to Harry, who jabbed in some keys in the register. He handed the woman her items, and began to scan the next customer, who was an odd bloke indeed.

The man himself looked out of the ordinary. His nose was shortened, if not completely flattened. His skin was paled, with purple veins throbbing through his forehead. No other customer acknowledged this man, which was beyond Harry.

Another thing odd about him was what he was purchasing. Harry saw that he was now scanning lingerie, four packs of raspberries, a card, and a lot of Easter eggs. Harry slowly scanned them, not knowing whether to laugh or not.

"Hello, there." The man said, smiling casually at Harry. "I'm Lord Voldemort." He said. "I'm Harry Potter." Harry smiled. This man was obviously mad.

"That'll be twenty six pounds." He said. "Oh, that's how it is." Lord Voldemort said, suddenly turning cold. Harry looked up, startled. The man started hissing, in what sounded like a language. Still, nobody acknowledged this mad man.

"Err, sir? Lord Voldemort? Could you pay?" Harry asked. "I understand, Harry." Voldemort said, his voice rising. "Great!" Harry said, brightly. This was getting downright scary.

"I knew that this would happen." He said, slowly. Although the people in the line were getting impatient, no one realized that Lord Voldemort was most likely an escaped mental patient.

"It was really foolish; to think that what we had would stay." He said, nodding. "But really, Harry, _this fast_?" He asked. "Sir, I'm going to have to-" Harry started. "Have to what? What will you do, now?" Lord Voldemort asked. "Will you cheat on Ginevra Weasley?" He hissed.

This is getting way out of hand, Harry thought. How did he know Ginny? "Will you cheat on _her_, as you did on _me_?" Lord Voldemort asked.

"Sorry, I cheated on you?" Harry asked, his eyebrows almost touching his scalp. "That's right, Harry. But, I'll have you know, Lucius Malfoy proposed to me, a few weeks ago. Little did I know that I'd bump into you, here." Lord Voldemort said.

"As you may have guessed, I am planning for my honey moon." He said. Harry was about to object, and say that he would never have guessed, but thought better of it.

"Do you know what?" Lord Voldemort asked. Harry glanced at the customers, who were now glaring at HIM. Harry gawked. What was he doing wrong?

This man, who was accusing Harry of cheating on him, was who they should be glaring at. Not him.

"Hand me a pen." Lord Voldemort said. "Err, okay." Harry said, thinking that the faster he did it, the sooner this man would leave. Lord Voldemort took the pen, and opened his card, and quickly wrote,

_Lord Voldemort invites you to his wedding to Lucius Malfoy_

_8033 Brauson Avenue, Lincoln, United Kingdom_

_Dress formally, starts at 11 o'clock AM_

Lord Voldemort handed Harry the card, and in a huff, walked out of the store. Harry looked at the card, Lord Voldemort, back to the card, and back to Lord Voldemort, and finally at the line of customers awaiting to purchase their items.

* * *

"Argh!" Harry yelled, clutching his forehead. His wife, Ginny Potter, turned in bed. "Mm. Harry, you should get your scar checked." She murmured, sleepily. Harry took his hand off of his forehead, and slowly, the pain resided.

It had been over twenty years after the war, after Voldemort was killed, yet Harry still had these odd dreams.

**AN: First fanfiction! Tell me what you think! xx**


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